


Potions & Progress

by maerzkindt



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Haikyuu!! Discord Summer Exchange, Kuroo and Yaku as potion maker's apprentices, Snark, also starring Kenma as a cat, having a sibling really helped me write this, no wand-waving but I borrowed potion ingredients from HP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-17 23:30:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14841272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maerzkindt/pseuds/maerzkindt
Summary: Kuroo and Yaku, apprentices to the same master of potion making, share only three things: a room, a drive for greatness, and their dislike for each other. When their teacher isn't home and a cat appears in the wrong place, things are bound to escalate.





	Potions & Progress

In the end it was all the cat’s fault.

 

It had started as a slow day, rain softly pattering against the windows and turning the world outside into one big blur. A day for laziness, even more so after Master Nekomata had gone out. To look for some special kind of mushrooms, he’d said, because “the water makes them fatter and slimier”. Kuroo shuddered. Why did great minds always belong to such weird old men?

But while he was gone Nekomata had assigned his two young apprentices with just a single task- watching over the potion he was brewing at the moment. It had been a very relaxed day so far; Kuroo had just given the cauldron another look and a few stirs and the potion had kept simmering peacefully. He wondered what it was for- he would have to ask Nekomata when he got back. Until then, he would just enjoy a nice nap on the-

Oh, great.

 

“What is it?” Yaku looked up from the book he was reading while sprawled out on the carpet in front of the stove. Kuroo’s favourite spot.

“Nothing.” He _knew_ it was his favourite spot. “What’re you reading?”

Yaku gave an exasperated sigh and showed him the cover. _The Art of Stirring - Techniques for Advanced Potion Makers._ Underneath a picture of a cauldron with silver steam rising from it, a banner announced _“Includes instructions on carving the perfect spoon!”_

Kuroo scoffed. “Sounds incredible.”

“Well,” Yaku said in a way that made him itch to turn that smirk upside down real quick, “Master said I had room to grow when it came to the art of stirring.” He even quoted the damn book title.

“So you thought you might do some ‘light reading’ to ease yourself into the subject?” Kuroo asked mockingly.

Yaku didn’t take the bait and focused on his book, still blocking Kuroo’s rightful spot on the carpet.

Time for a different strategy.

 

He wandered off into the library, if that was the right name for a room probably one percent the size of an actual library but still stacked with the same amount of books.

“Now for something nice and heavy…” he murmured, standing on tiptoes to scan the titles in the upper rows.

Several books with dark blue binding imprinted in gold caught his eye, and he pulled a particularly bulky one out from amongst its formidable siblings. Volume VI, _A Beginner’s Guide to Grinding Herbals and other Greens_.

Not good enough, although if he thought about it he was pretty sloppy with a mortar and Nekomata had scolded him for it yesterday…

He put it back anyway and took another, the very last volume in the series titled _Master’s Choice: The Recipes You Should Only Try After At Least A Decade Of Experience._

Perfect.

 

With the book under his arm Kuroo returned to the lounge, as he liked to called it- if only Master Nekomata could make enough money to buy a real fireplace instead of that pitiful stove… Yaku looked up from his read when he lay down on the floorboards next to the carpet.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, just reading,” said Kuroo, lying flat on his back and holding the book over his head so Yaku could read the title.

“It’s upside down.”

“Yes, Master said I should refresh my ancient runes a bit,” Kuroo said, annoyed that he hadn’t been able to impress with the hefty title. He thought he saw Yaku’s left eye twitch for a second, but he didn’t respond and went back to ignoring him.

Silence set in. Kuroo began to actually browse his book. Some of the recipes were in fact written in strange characters he didn’t recognise, but the others actually seemed reasonably easy to follow. He skipped the _Potion of Pestilence_ because it had a stewing time of three weeks (“The longer the incubation period, the more devastating the outbreak!”) and the _Brew of Beasts_ because it required the maker to cut off his hair and use it as an ingredient. You had to draw your red line somewhere.

 

“Hey.” Yaku had turned towards him. “You’ll catch a cold if you just lie on the floor like that.”

A peace offering?

“And then I’ll have to waste my time brewing tea and listening to your whining.”

Or not. Alright, it was on again.

But Yaku actually made some room for him to lie on the carpet, too. Kuroo rolled over, trying not to grin in excitement. He had a new plan.

Step one. While pretending to read he began to edge his body closer and closer to Yaku until their shoulders were touching. Yaku moved a bit to the right, away from him. Kuroo followed. Yaku budged again. Kuroo waited for a moment before closing in a third time-

“Will you stop it?!”

Yaku glared at him, suppressed anger flaring up in his eyes. He’s trying so hard to be the bigger man, Kuroo thought amusedly while also inwardly congratulating himself for the pun.

“What do you mean?” he responded. Oh, how it flared. Like a beautiful campfire. Time for step two. “I thought you said I could come lay on the carpet.”

Small house fire.

“I was trying to be _nice_ -“

Step three.

“Hey,” Kuroo said with a soothing, concerned voice and wild glee in his heart, “don’t get angry with me, let’s talk about this like adults-“

Boom, inferno.

 

“I’M NOT ANGRY!” Yaku screamed and jumped to his feet, five and a half feet of compressed rage. He opened his mouth as if to shout something else, only to close it again. After another moment he stormed off and the door to their shared bedroom was slammed shut so hard a spider fell from the ceiling and into Kuroo’s hair.

“You forgot your book!” he shouted after him. _The Art of Stirring_ was lying there, still opened.

Yaku hated it when Kuroo didn’t close a book after reading, he always berated him about how he was breaking its spine and disrespecting the author and just being the worst apprentice ever.

 -Maybe he hadn’t said the last thing, but certainly thought it. Always studying, working hard to improve, making his master proud- how could such an overachiever not look down on the guy who was less of a genius and who also loved naps a lot?

Kuroo fished the spider from his hair and stretched out on the carpet.

Yaku would calm down soon. If he wanted to retaliate he’d have punched him in the face by now; the only thing he couldn’t best Kuroo in was a fight with words and he knew it. Kuroo didn’t particularly like being punched in the face, but it was part of the game. On most occasions Yaku would just retreat into their bedroom and emerge some time later, appearing calm and collected and treating Kuroo as if nothing had happened. Maybe the two of them harmonised with each other after all- Kuroo could have fun taunting Yaku and Yaku could be a grown-up about it.

 

There was a scratching noise at the door. Kuroo got up; as soon as he opened a very wet cat slipped inside. Its white fur with large black and light brown patches was speckled with mud. After shaking off some water, the cat transfixed him with an accusing stare.

“Sorry, Kenma,” said Kuroo. “How long have you been out there?”

Kenma the cat only meowed and moved in front of the stove. Kuroo sat down to give him an apology belly rub. If Yaku ever decided he’d had enough of their games he would always have Kenma to keep him company.

But of course Yaku would never leave or stop playing their game. They were rivals, after all.

Master Nekomata probably wouldn’t want see it that way, but what else could you expect when taking in two young boys. It didn’t help if they were different as day and night except for their drive to become the best master of potions there had ever been.

 

He remembered their first day together- an old man and two kids awkwardly sitting in the living room, not knowing what they should talk about. When the potions master had asked what they wanted to have for dinner, Kuroo had said “fish” and at the same time Yaku had said “meat” and then they had glared at the other angrily. In the end Nekomata had made a vegetable stew they both secretly found disgusting but ate anyway to be polite.

Later Nekomata had asked them about their families and homes but he had quickly stopped when he saw tears welling up in their eyes.

Kuroo had learnt by now how to deal with missing his family from time to time, but as a thirteen-year-old it had been hard. He had cried almost every night, trying to smother his sobs with a pillow so Yaku in the bed underneath him wouldn’t hear them. Yaku had done exactly the same, and after a while they’d both tried to stop crying altogether to prove they were stronger than the other.

After this first contest many others had followed. They had always been rivals, but never friends. Maybe that was why after a year Nekomata had brought home a cat.

 

“You’re my only real friend, Kenma,” Kuroo said as he lightly scratched him under the chin. “The other guy is a stuck-up genius who’s probably wondering daily why I’m still here… because I like to relax and have fun and not read about _The Art of Stirring_ all the ti-“

Stirring. Oh.

He stood abruptly, ignoring Kenma’s sounds of protest. Just then the door to their shared bedroom opened and Yaku appeared, looking alarmed.

“I forgot the potion,” they both said simultaneously. A moment later Yaku was in full gallop down the hall to Nekomata’s laboratory, with Kuroo right behind.

 

The potion stewing on a small fire in the middle of the room was on the verge of boiling over; light purple foam that had gathered on its surface aready bulged over the sides of the cauldron.

Kuroo scrambled to find the long-handled spoon he’d used before, found it and threw it to Yaku. His fellow apprentice began to stir the potion in strange patterns Kuroo had never seen before while murmuring to himself- and after a moment the foam dispersed completely. The purple brew looked as peaceful as a small undisturbed pond.

“What was that?” Kuroo asked a little breathlessly, but grinning with relief.

“Just something I picked up from my ‘light reading’,” Yaku said teasingly. “Sorry, advanced potion makers only.”

Kuroo pouted. “That’s not fair… but seriously, I’m glad you saved it.”

Yaku smiled, pleasantly surprised at Kuroo’s (for once) genuine words.

“I think I made the temperature drop too low, though,” he said. He held a hand above the surface of the potion, then put a finger in and nodded critically. “I didn’t know that unconventional stirring method would work so well… It’s only lukewarm now. We’ll have to reheat it.”

Kuroo shrugged. “Better than boiling over,” he said. “Would have been just peachy if we spilt some of Master Nekomata’s precious potion, wouldn’t it?”

 

“Meow,” said Kenma, who must have followed them and was now rubbing his head against Kuroo’s leg. That little bastard wouldn’t stop until he got the amount of head scratches he thought he deserved.

Yaku was not very happy with it. “Why is he in here?!” he demanded.

Kuroo picked Kenma up. “Relax. I didn’t think to close the door when we ran in here.”  The cat squirmed in his arms.

“Alright, but can you get him out _right now_?” Yaku stood in front of the cauldron like a parent before their child, ready to shield it with his own body before so much as a single cat hair contaminated the potion. Kuroo laughed, half amused and annoyed. He just always had to show how he was the responsible one, didn’t he.

“Yes, Master,” he said mockingly, mimicking a military salute, “Our Saviour with the spoon, oh Protector of Potions-“

At that moment Kenma, only being restrained by one arm now, freed himself from Kuroo’s grip and suddenly lunged at Yaku. The small young man could only shout in surprise as the cat landed on his shoulder, scrambled for balance but didn’t find it… and fell.

There was a splash.

Yaku’s face turned very pale as he spun around. Kuroo was already reaching inside the cauldron with both hands. More potion was spilt over the sides, soaking the front of his shirt and hissing sharply when the liquid met the flames below, but he managed to get a hold of Kenma and pull him out. The cat was in a full-blown panic, clawing and screaming like they had just tried to drown him on purpose. Kuroo let go of him as soon as he was a safe distance away from the cauldron and Kenma belted from the room faster than lightning. He left a trail of purple puddles behind him.

 

Kuroo inspected the nasty scratches on his forearms before noticing that Yaku had not moved. He was still standing in front of the cauldron, staring at its contents, and his expression did not bode well. Kuroo moved to take a look at it, and his heart sank, or rather went into freefall.

The potion wasn’t purple anymore- it had turned an ugly greyish-brown colour, matching the dark cat hairs swimming in it.

Yaku looked at him, absolutely terrified. “We’ve fucking spoilt it,” he whispered.

 

One half of Kuroo’s brain was screaming at him to run and hide and claim it was all Yaku’s fault when their master returned home and found his potion completely ruined. He tried to focus on the other, more rational half. Keep your mind working, that’s the most important thing. _Think_.

Yaku was pacing around the room looking like he might start ripping out his hair soon. He was too shaken to even get mad at him, even though it had technically been his fault. If he’d just taken care of Kenma first- poor Kenma, he was probably scared to death right now-

He wrenched himself away from his thoughts. The time for feeling guilty was later.

 

“Yaku-“ he grabbed him by the shoulder and Yaku finally stopped walking back and forth like a headless chicken- “stay here. I’ve got an idea.”

He went back to the living room and returned with Yaku’s book on stirring and the dark blue volume called _Master’s Choice_. Yaku looked at him, uncomprehending.

“What are we supposed to do now?” he said weakly.

“Simple,” Kuroo responded while skimming the pages for a recipe he had looked at earlier. When he found it he showed the pages to Yaku almost triumphantly.

“We’re gonna make another one.”

A pause. “You’re crazy.”

“And you’re a potion making prodigy. We can do this.”

He almost had to smile at himself for the grand words he was throwing around. Normally he would rather have eaten one of Nekomata’s extra fat and slimy mushrooms than call Yaku a ‘potion making prodigy’. (It was true, but admitting it would mean basically forfeiting all his victories in their year-long game.) When it came to persuasion, a little sweet talk always helped.

“But it’s not even the same potion!” Yaku kept arguing. At least he didn’t appear to be shell-shocked anymore. “This recipe says it doesn’t need to simmer at all but the original potion-“

 “Does it really matter?” Kuroo interrupted him impatiently, pointing at an illustration of the finished draught. “Purple- purple. It _looks_ exactly the same, and whatever great thing Nekomata was going for with his mixture... maybe it just won’t work out the way he thought it would. It happens even to masters.” The suggested potion was called _The Easing Elixir_ , and in Kuroo’s opinion that didn’t sound too bad.

“ _Aiding even the most remote areas of your body to unclench and loosen up, this elixir will free up blocked pathways and bring you great joy and relaxation in minutes,”_ Yaku read the description underneath out loud.

“What does this actually do?”

Kuroo waved the book cover before his eyes. “I don’t know, make you feel like you just got a nice massage or whatever. The important thing is that it’s _Master’s Choice_! Nekomata will never suspect us because he won’t believe we could have made a such a high level potion!”

“So high level _‘You Should Only Try After At Least A Decade Of Experience’?_ ” Yaku asked doubtfully, looking at the book’s subtitle. “We’ve only been learning for three years.”

But there was an excited glint in his eyes, and Kuroo knew he had him. Now all he needed was one final push-

“Well, if you think you won’t be able to do it-“

“I’m doing it, asshole, we’re doing it right now!”

 

Kuroo volunteered to empty and clean the cauldron while Yaku collected the ingredients needed for their master deception. He felt a sting of envy as he watched him move along the shelves, pulling out tins and small bottles with an air of competence and self-assurance, nothing like the terrified mess he’d been before. Anyone could see that he belonged here, a master with his own laboratory, destined for greatness. Unlike the scrawny guy in the corner who couldn’t compare, whose only outstanding talent was to annoy people.

-Let’s not drown the cat in a cauldron full of self-pity, he thought and dragged the heavy iron back to the fireplace. We need to get out of this mess first.

When the fire was lit and the water slowly heating up in the cauldron they proceeded to preparing the ingredients. While he was weighing the exact amount of linseed needed, Kuroo still quickly glanced at Yaku. He seemed fully concentrated on grinding spotted eggshells into a fine powder, but what was he thinking? Was he going to tell Nekomata after all that Kuroo had spoilt the potion? Was he hoping that their master would finally throw him out- and focus on training the apprentice who had always been better at everything anyway?

He wouldn’t, he said to himself but couldn’t quite get rid of an anxious feeling in his stomach. Just focus on making this substitute potion the best you can.

Yaku studied _The Art of Stirring_ for a moment before trying one of its methods at the cauldron. The water suddenly began to bubble, and he turned around with a proud, excited smile on his face.

Kuroo smiled back, if only weakly. This needed to be a team effort.

They worked in silence, going back and forth between the bookstand and the cauldron to check the recipe then carry out the instructions. Yaku stirred in between Kuroo adding ingredients, and once even handed him a vial of concentrated flixweed fluid. Exactly thirteen drops were supposed to go into the mix, and you could see his lips move while Kuroo dosed them. But he considerately refrained from counting them aloud.

Kuroo found himself surprised at how well they worked together now that they weren’t fighting. Maybe, he thought, maybe after all these years we could do this more often.

 

Eventually the potion had reached its desired state, thick green fluid lazily swirling around the cauldron. There were only a few steps left, and Kuroo felt pretty hopeful.

“This might actually work,” he muttered as he took a cup containing dried nightshade seeds and one with pulverised eggshells. He added an ounce of nightshade seed and the brew hissed and turned from green to light purple. Not quite the exact colour of Nekomata’s lost mixture, but they were going to get there. He was about to put in the same amount of the eggshell powder when Yaku grabbed his forearm.

“Wait- you’re supposed to put all the seeds in first.”

“No, you have to alternate between an ounce of nightshade and eggshells,” Kuroo responded. Yaku reached for the book, still not letting go of his arm.

“ _Add five ounces of nightshade seed and three ounces of powder made from the shells of quail eggs,_ ” he read out loud. “See, it’s nightshade seeds first.”

“It doesn’t say ‘and then add powder’, just ‘and powder’.  One ounce each is the way Master does it.” Kuroo felt incredibly annoyed at Yaku’s smug expression. He might not be a total genius, but he knew his basics. Yaku wasn’t the only one who’d spent years watching Master Nekomata work.

But his fellow apprentice didn’t give in. “We’ve never tried this before,” he said. “We need to do it by the book!”

Oh, there it is, Kuroo thought. You just can’t trust me. You always need to be the best you can be, and you never see that I’m trying too.

“We need to do it the way you want it, that’s what you really mean to say,” he stated with a bitter grin.

He’d thought for a moment that they could work as a team because the situation called for it, but of course Yaku couldn’t see him as anything but an obstacle. Well then. He knew where to hit.

And indeed Yaku glared at him with indignation.

“It’s not because ‘I want it’, it’s because I’m right!”

People never wanted to acknowledge their weaknesses even when confronted with them.

“And you, you have this _complex-_ “

 “Who knew you could be so articulate,” Kuroo sneered. “But I’m sorry to say you haven’t quite understood that fancy word. I don’t have a complex.”

Yaku wasn’t finished. “Yes you do! It’s _you_ who keeps messing things up because you desperately need to spite me!” he spit out.

Kuroo laughed loudly at that because it wasn’t true, Yaku was just hurling accusations at him in hopes of trying to hurt him- which he hadn’t, because it wasn’t true-

He tried to wrench his forearm out of Yaku’s grip. Damn, how could someone so small be so strong?

“Let go of me,” he said, dangerously quiet.

But Yaku just looked at him grimly and said, “You know I’m right.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re always an asshole because you’re _envious_ and _scared-_ “

“SHUT UP!” Kuroo shouted and raised his fist. Yaku had to let go of the book he was still holding. _Master’s Choice_ clattered to the floor as he caught Kuroo’s wrist and now clasped both of his forearms in a death grip. They began to struggle violently, Kuroo trying to break free and Yaku trying to restrain him.

“Stop it-“ Yaku said through gritted teeth, “I’m sorry, alright-“

Kuroo didn’t want to hear it. He wanted to punch Yaku, punch him hard until he not only took back his words but undid them, because _he_ was the asshole, and Kuroo wasn’t fucking _scared_ -

 

“What’s going on here?”

They both froze and turned to the door and there was Master Nekomata, Kenma in his arms and a very displeased look on his face.

Kuroo’s arms went limp and Yaku let go of him. They stood quietly as Nekomata put the cat down, then walked in and inspected the room- the mess of ingredients on the tables, the stains left on the floor from Kenma almost drowning in the potion, and the cauldron filled with their unfinished draught. Yaku winced when he picked up the book from the floor where it lay like a broken bird. He smoothed the pages with his hand, but the ugly folds were still visible.

Then he looked up at them and Kuroo thought, this is it. He’d finally managed to cross the line, Nekomata would send him back to his family and all these years would have been for nothing. He would never be a master of potions because his own master had cast him out, because he was _stupid_ -

 

“It was me,” Yaku suddenly burst out. “Master, it wasn’t Kuroo’s fault, I did everything!”

Kuroo gave him a bewildered look. What was he doing? This was his chance of getting rid of him, the pesky rival who always taunted him and who had clearly been attacking him when Nekomata arrived…

Their master seemed baffled as well.

“What did you boys do?” he asked.

Kuroo jumped at the question and spoke very quickly, signalling Yaku with his eyes to shut up and stop playing the sacrificial lamb.

“We forgot to stir your potion and then I accidentally let Kenma in here, and Kenma jumped at Yaku and fell into the potion and it turned all brown-“

“Yes, I figured that out,” Nekomata said, and the wrinkles on his face deepened as he suddenly smiled.

“Kenma was trying to get dry when I found him,” he explained when Yaku and Kuroo simultaneously opened their mouth. “And there were puddles of my potion all around him.”

Kuroo inwardly slapped himself for their combined stupidity. Even if they’d managed to finish the new potion their perfect crime would have been ruined by a single wet cat.

 

“So you tried to remake the potion?” Nekomata asked. He still didn’t seem as angry with them as he should have been.

Kuroo continued. “It was actually my idea, I found this book and the potion looked like yours and I thought- I thought-“

What had he thought, actually? In hindsight his brilliant idea to try and deceive their master and Yaku’s agreement to it seemed childish, like their thirteen-year-old selves had taken over.

Nekomata skimmed over the recipe that they had used _._ Then he looked at the title, printed in golden letters on the book cover- _Master’s Choice: The Recipes You Should Only Try After At Least A Decade Of Experience._ Finally, he laughed.

“Master, what-“

Yaku seemed so confused Kuroo would have liked to make a joke about it, but he couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Aren’t you going to punish us?” his co-apprentice said quietly.

Nekomata had stopped laughing but still appeared unreasonably amused.

“I’m not sure, Yaku,” he said. “I could make you drink this potion that you’ve brewed up quite well, I have to say. I suppose you didn’t know what it’s for.”

He handed him the book and Yaku studied the description of _The Easing Elixir_ again. Kuroo moved behind him to read over his shoulder.

 

 _Aiding even the most remote areas of your body to unclench and loosen up, this elixir will free up blocked pathways and bring you great joy and relaxation in minutes,_ the description proclaimed.

 

When Yaku had read it out loud before it had sounded like the potion was simply supposed to relieve tension in general. At second glance though, Kuroo was met with a dawning realisation.

Remote areas of the body… freeing blocked pathways…

“Oh no,” he let out involuntarily, and Nekomata chuckled.

“I know constipation is an embarrassing subject, boys,” he said, “but if you needed a remedy for that you could have just asked me.”

Kuroo would have laughed with him if he hadn’t been so busy wishing the floor would swallow him whole. Yaku’s face had turned a previously unseen shade of red, one so bright that even his masterful taunts had never managed to induce it.

 

Nekomata took _Master’s Choice_ from him and said, “I should have told you that I only keep this volume in the library because it completes the set… it’s actually garbage. Just look at that title.”

Ouch. So the part of the plan that involved averting Nekomata’s suspicions by creating a high-level potion had been doomed from the start as well.

 But Nekomata continued. “I’m still impressed, you two. Even if it’s just a moderately difficult draught to ease constipation, advertised as something really special… you tried it all on your own. And I think you would have succeeded if not for your little… disagreement.”

That was the cue for Kuroo and Yaku to turn to each other, then awkwardly look away again.

Kuroo felt a different kind of shame rise in him and his throat tightened.

“I’m sorry I tried to hit you,” he muttered.

“I beat you up all the time,” said Yaku. “But the things I said…”

“I’ve been saying worse things to you,” Kuroo interrupted him, “pretty much for three years.”

He wanted to say that Yaku had been right, that he was envious of his talent and scared of losing to him and that it made him lash out. But he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, not yet. Maybe later, when he’d sorted out those ugly little things called feelings and made some of them realise they had to leave. He didn’t want them as his house guests anymore.

 

There was an awkward silence as they stared at each other, both feeling like they’d lost the battle and lost the war as well- but it had been a draining and senseless war, and they mostly felt relieved it was over.

Nekomata dissolved the tension when he laid a hand on both their shoulders and pulled them into a hug.

“You two are both idiots,” he said. “But I’m glad you are alright.”

Kuroo pressed his face into Nekomata’s soft woollen pullover and sighed.

He felt a hand softly touching his arm then wandering over to his back and settling there. After a moment he responded the gesture, tentatively placing his right arm around Yaku’s shoulders.

Nekomata eventually released them from his embrace just as the soft pattering of Kenma’s feet returned to the room. The cat rubbed against the master’s legs but avoided Kuroo and Yaku, only shooting them a miffed look.

“Actually, the whole thing was Kenma’s fault-“ Kuroo began. Yaku mildly punched him in the ribs.

“Silence,” Nekomata said sternly but with a twinkle in his eye. “And I forgot to mention- you’re both grounded.”

Kuroo looked outside and saw that the rain had stopped; the sun was making droplets of water on the trees and grass sparkle like millions of tiny crystals.

 

He would have loved to take a stroll through the woods and enjoy the world in its brand new colours. But where the thought of having to stay inside and be in Yaku’s company all day would have been terrible before… now it actually didn’t seem too bad.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for Maddie from the Haikyuu!! Discord!  
> Thank you all for reading & I hope you liked it. I promise I'll fix the formatting soon.  
> Comments and criticism would be much appreciated!


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